A Guide to Gorgons: What They Are and How to Use Them
by Campanella-Galaxy
Summary: Dystopia!AU. Shuuya Kano, a noblewoman's son, witnesses dozens of gorgon deaths daily, accepting the status quo without question. He embraces his fate, knowing that it's much safer than becoming a foot soldier. Why would he give up his chance at wealth, fame, and power? Kano x Seto


There is a breaking point.

Nothing's simple anymore, no more schematic designs, monochrome thoughts scattered about.

There is a time when everyone's life becomes so null that they begin to ponder simple things, things with no complex constitution.

The same was happening to Shuuya Kano.

It started out with nonsense, really, simple existential threats, burning in his chest, flaring every so often.

What is the point of life, why are we here. If God is real, why does he put people on this planet, just to suffer?

He can't empathize with them.

The unfortunate.

He can hear them cry and scream in anguish, cursing the way of the world. It wasn't his fault.

And yet he couldn't help but wonder.

Everyone has their habits. He has his, you have yours. His were dangerous. Habits of being immersed in these thoughts. He'd be so distracted he wouldn't look up.

He wouldn't notice the collision.

He wouldn't see how the lovely flower boy was soon to change his life.

.。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・°

When Shuuya Kano thought of his home, he thought of violence.

12:30 noon.

At some point in the present, eyelashes bat in the midst of cool air on his face, beckoning him to wake. A curious thing he was, often rummaging through everything he got his hands on, letting his cat like orbs skim through his surroundings.

Such a strange, cruel world he lived in. One full of odd inventions, artificial people, ways to communicate and interact with the whole world.

Shuuya was given the opportunity to have all of it.

He's in his bed, surrounded by an assortment of plush blankets. He resided in a fairly simple room, one that looked quite grand. It was small and hard and wedged in one place, but that was for him to know, and only him. Stretching his limbs, stiff from slumber, he fulfils the generic morning routine and heads to the corridor.

Shuuya asks for a platter of pancakes. A servant brings him a platter of pancakes. These moments were related. He knew that.

He eats in silence, accompanied by nothing but the sounds of the maple syrup caught in his lips. The guards utter not a word to their master or each other - there's no point in graciousness when you're trying to accomplish something.

Shuuya knew that, too.

Finishing his lonely breakfast, he made his way down the stairwell. It was the same every day. He walked down a familiar route, past a familiar foyer through a familiar corridor, knowing he was surrounded by familiar secrets.

But that wasn't his fault.

He turned his shoulder.

Now it was time to follow a familiar pattern through a familiar day, a very familiar routine. Every day was the same. He wouldn't change that.

Shuuya Kano detested change.

He made his way to the familiar courtyard to fulfill a familiar walk around the lake. There wasn't much excitement in his life, being noble. He wished for a different routine. Sometimes he wondered why it had to be like that, but it's better to never question things. Especially things like government. Those things were never to be questioned.

To Shuuya's disdain, his mannerism was brought to an end. So early in the day, too. Before he could take a simple step through the grand french doors, a spear was thrust in front of his scrawny chest.

"Aha, excuse me, Number 26," guards could not be bothered with individuality. That bothered Shuuya so, but that was how it worked, and therefore shouldn't be questioned, "I'd like to go outside."

"I'm afraid I can't allow that, Sir." The guard pointed to an all too familiar portrait, "Today's the Obon holiday. Gorgon execution. Your mother can't be bothered right now.

And suddenly there was a rift. How long had Shuuya's days been going like this? Decades perhaps, decades of doing the same thing every day, his routine set in stone.

Why did it change? Why now?

He let his passive gaze fall upon the window as he peered outside.

.。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・°

12:30 noon.

Tsubomi felt exhausted and exhilarated, as if she had just embarked on a quest to find something. But what was it she was looking for? And how would she know she had found it? It was as if reading all the previous reports, records of those killed on the execution day, was only a series of meaningless words that lead like a spiral staircase into the unknown. She could not understand what they were trying to say.

All she knew was she had to make it out of the Kano Mansion before one of those damn orange tablets were graced with her own name.

Orange. Seemed like everything associated with orange lead to no good. Everything in this wormhole-worthy second rate mansion was orange. The courtyard was orange (and squishy, and wet). The native flora was orange, and tangled in crazy wide knots like it was trying to strangle itself ( _good_ , Tsubomi thought). Even the sky had a thin orange haze that smelled, unrelentingly, like sulfur. Orange was an ugly colour, as far as they were concerned. There was not a single thing Tsubomi could think of that was orange and enjoyable.

Least of all Momo.

"Would you quit your whining for an eighth of a damn second, Momo? I get it, you haven't raided before and you don't want to be here. Well guess what, neither do we, so suck it up!"

"But this is stupid!" Momo retorted.

She wasn't wrong - which she had made unceasingly clear for the past three hours. The amount of time they had been sitting around spying was stupid. Their lack of instruction was stupid, but that was a fault of Shintaro, the imposing captain of their branched-off squadron, whom, in Tsubomi's opinion, was a man as stupid as they were.

If he hadn't taken his sight off of his squadron, they wouldn't have been caught by the Military Police. Had they not been caught by the Military Police, Momo and Tsubomi would not be sitting around looking through records of their fallen comrades, trying to figure out how to save people Shintaro Kisaragi was responsible for, stuck on a mission that was hopelessly, utterly, _stupid._

"You don't think I get that? Listen, just look through the reports for me and try to find a pattern. I'll go see if I can find the rest of the Kisaragi Clan."

"What? With the reports?" Momo squeaked, "They don't make any sense, you can't just-"

Tsubomi was gone before she had to listen to the rest.

She wasn't sure why she brought the reports, only because the more she read, the deeper she delved, the more likely she felt she was closer to uncover something.

But why read the accounts of those already dead? It was best to just leave them alone, and she felt patronizingly _stupid_ to have thought the dead would help her.

She was unbeknownst to the fact that they were still writing themselves.

She continued down the hall.

Commander General Kano was no docile woman she knew - if there was one person passionate about the genocide of gorgons it was her. Unnatural, she called them. When a pure human like her saw a beast with an eye power, she couldn't see people, normal creatures with feelings.

She saw pests. Animals. Scum.

A loud _thwack!_ resounding from the courtyard rung in her ears, interrupting her from her thoughts. She peered down to see none other than a member of the Kisaragi squadron get slapped across the face, leaving a near fatal mark on his cheek.

Looks like the Obon holiday was about to begin

.。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・°

At exactly 12:45, Shuuya Kano, restrained by two guards, witnessed the Commandment General slap a monster. Should have held his tongue, the wretched beast.

"Hold your tongue," She cooed, "Soon, there won't be anything for you to complain about."

Her orange air was swept behind her ears as she brought out a tablet of a similar hue to write down the accounts of each and every gorgon she was about to stain her hands with. For a split second, she made eye contact with Shuuya, the dark orbs saying the same thing as always.

 _Your lies are sweet,_ they cooed, _but this is not your place._

Yes, Shuuya knew what they were saying. He knew what her gaze meant, when she was serious and when she was joking. This woman had so much in common with her, her eyes, her smile, her blood…

What harsh and uncaring eyes. Shuuya found it hard to believe that the once looked just like hers. She found it hard to believe that this woman gave birth to her.

But that was her mother's place. Commandant General, ridding the world of scum. Gorgons were no more than vile creatures, bent on the destruction of people, with no real emotion.

He could never think of a time when Gorgons attacked people unprovoked, but that didn't matter.

But he couldn't help but question, what was her mother's reason?

Shuuya Kano, you better stop questioning things that aren't in your place before you get in trouble.


End file.
